Meet the “Disayangi” family.
I can’t tell you their real names, and I can’t show you their faces – because the Disayangi are refugees.
Two years ago they fled their home country of Pakistan. There they lived a good life. They had a nice house, good jobs, and two adorable thriving kids.
The only problem: the Disayangi are a part of the Muslim sect called Ahmadiyya, which is greatly looked down upon and rejected in Pakistan for their promotion of peaceful love and acceptance. With the recent change of government and new laws, the Disayangi became outcasts in their own community. Islamic extremists began breaking into their house where they would be waiting to ambush the family as they got home, and attempted to kidnap their children from school on three separate occasions.
They knew they had to get out, but doing so would be dangerous. So in 2017 they fled the country and landed in a refugee community in Penang, Malaysia.
They lost almost everything. All the sudden they found themselves without cars, their Pakistani bank accounts frozen, still in a community where they had to hide their religion and it was illegal for their children to go to school, and living in an apartment probably the size of most peoples livingroom in America. And there was no going back. If they even thought about returning to Pakistan, they would be killed on the spot for hiding from the government.
And their hurdles don’t stop there. Back in Pakistan, Dad was an electrician. 7 years ago he was electrocuted and severally injured. His nerve pain is usually so intense that it keeps him from work, meaning the family has no way to earn an income. And it’s dangerous for them to even leave their house. If they are stopped by the immigration police while walking down the street they can be arrested, fined, or even deported (even the children).
But the beautiful thing about this family, is the way they are being pursued by Jesus, and the immense love and hope that flows out of them, without them even knowing it. “Disayangi” means loved, and wow, is this family so.
Within moments of meeting Mom on the children’s first day of school, we knew we had to get to know this family more. Since its illegal for the children to attend school and refuge schools are run in secret, for two years they stayed at home without schooling. You would never know it though, because these kids are knowledgeable beyond their years and hungry to learn. And as any parent is on the first day, Mom was elated to see them playing with their peers and wanted to take all the pictures with us in their new classrooms.
Sharing their story with us was a huge risk to their safety, but Jesus is doing a big work in their hearts, and Mom and Dad are beginning to notice a difference in the Christians they’ve come into contact with, a pattern of love and safety like they’re never found anywhere else.
The Muslim community as a whole maintains a lot of negative stereotypes about Christians. In most foreign countries they see American dramas on TV like Jersey Shore, etc. and assume that since America is a “Christian Nation” that that is how Christians behave and the lifestyle they believe in. As Dad pointed out while we were talking to him though, “This is what other Muslims tell us about Christians, but that is not what we see with our eyes. Since we’ve been here, I’ve seen young Christian girls give up their seats on the bus to elderly men, something you would never see a Muslim woman do. When I am sick and need money to go to the hospital or to pay our rent, our neighbor (who is a Christian Indian woman) always gives us money and brings over food so that we can eat, something not a single one of our Muslim neighbors have ever offered. And you guys – you guys quit your jobs in America and left your good lives to come give my children an education that they would otherwise never be allowed. I don’t know much about Christians, but what I do know is all I see from them is love for my family in our biggest time of need.”
Our last night in Penang, we got the incredible opportunity to hang out with this sweet family all afternoon. We ate with them, they taught us to cook Aloo Wale Naan, one of their favorite Pakistani dishes, and we laughed and talked for hours, like we had known each other a lifetime.
After a few hours of being there though, the nerve pain began. Dad tried to smile and continue conversation through it, but you could see in his face he was in excruciating pain. We offered to pray for him, and when they smiled and agreed thankfully, we asked if it was okay if we said our prayers to Jesus (a HUGE deal in a Muslim home) and they just smiled and nodded in agreement. We prayed aloud with them, and then continued on with our various conversations. After about ten minutes, Dad looked up at Mom with shock in his eyes and whispered “they prayed for me, to their Jesus, and my pain…its gone?!
We looked at each other and just smiled. We knew we didn’t have to say a word, because the moment said it all. Jesus saw them and was ready for them to see just how vastly He cared for them.
You see, In Jesus’s life, He spent most of His time with people like you and I, people like the Disayangi. He chose the messy people – the prostitutes, the lepers, the tax collectors, the adulterous woman, the outcast, the lost.
And on this night, He chose a group of us messy people in the midst of our own wild journeys towards Christ, to cross paths with a family a community called outcasts, but He calls His chosen and beloved. Because relationships matter to Him. Because the “least of these” matter to Him. Because love matters to Him, above all.
“Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13)
